


A Demonic Invitation and a Celestial Acceptance

by stormsonjupiter



Series: Angsty, Anxious Angel and the Demonic Paramour [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Both are kind of anxious and there's a little awkwardness but mostly it's sweet, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), But it's okay, Comfort/Angst, Crowley goes too fast in a NSFW way, Crowley hates Gabriel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Heavy Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Male Homosexuality, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Smut, The Bus Stop Scene (Good Omens), They should probably figure out a safe word but they're both really inexperienced, Top Crowley (Good Omens), face swap good omens, hand holding, you could stay at my place if you like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-07-30 04:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormsonjupiter/pseuds/stormsonjupiter
Summary: It's yet another bus-stop-to-face-swap story. There will be much smut, but you have to wait for Ch. 3. Hey, if Az/Crow could wait 6,000 years, you can wait until chapter 3. ;).Ch 1: Aziraphale's perspective at the bus stop and bus ride (complete)Ch 2: Crowley's perspective at the bus stop and bus ride (complete)Ch 3: Both perspectives, at Crowley's apartment (this is where you skip to for the smut)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my Angsty, Anxious Angel and Demonic Paramour series, in which Aziraphale and Crowley both have their first sexual encounter in 1941 (story: Celestial Pining, Demonic Angst). 
> 
> You shouldn't need to read that story to fully understand this one, but you may wish to start there.

“You can stay at my place. If you like.”

Crowley’s words rushed over Aziraphale like a tidal wave. The events from today—facing Satan, disobeying heaven, thwarting the apocalypse—had left the angel emotionally raw, and without his bookshop he felt lost, unsure of where to go. But the demon sitting next to him, his steadfast companion with the fiery hair who smelled of ambrosial temptation, offered him sanctuary….salvation.

Aziraphale’s heart melted as he looked into Crowley’s lenses, searching for a glint of the demon’s yellow eyes. 

He did want that, to go back to the demon’s lair. He recalled, for only a split second, the night they spent together in the church ruins back in 1941, and the euphoric feeling of Crowley’s warm breath covering his skin as they thrusted wantonly into one another. His heart fluttered at the memory of the feverish ecstasy that poured out of him, and the demon’s hot lust filling him deeply. 

Aziraphale had been doing his best not to think of that night over the last few days—though it had been difficult. He would catch himself absentmindedly gazing with longing at the demon’s lips, wishing that they were pressed roughly against his own. Sometimes the way the demon sauntered, all confident and serpentine, would make his belly turn with pleasant flutter as his blood surged to his groin.

But he’d suppressed all of these flickers of desires that licked at him like torturous flames. He was good at suppressing them. He’d had many years of practice. 

Aziraphale convinced himself that their one night of passion in the church had been a—well, a misstep. One of those things that, like giving away the flaming sword, you just don’t tell Gabriel (or God) about, and you hope that it doesn’t come back to haunt you later. It happened, yes, and though it seemed right at the time, he knew he had to toe the line between good and evil, heaven and hell, angel and demon….Aziraphale and Crowley. 

“I don’t think my side would like that,” the angel responded reluctantly turning his face away from Crowley, his words a rehearsed echo from centuries of pushing the demon away. 

“You don’t have a side anymore,” Crowley said with a low, gentle voice. “Neither of us do. We’re on our own side.” 

Aziraphale’s stomach dropped and he looked back at the demon, knowing that Crowley was right. The angel was speechless. 

The whole impetus behind thwarting the apocalypse was borne out of a desire to fight for things to stay the same—he always in his disorganized bookshop, Crowley always in his swift Bentley, the two of them dining at the Ritz, sitting on a bench at St. James, drinking expensive alcohol as they chattered about nonsense. 

But with Crowley’s words, it struck him that things couldn’t go back to the way they had been before the apocalypse. Not only had both of them lost their most beloved earthly treasures, they had nearly lost one another. 

Forever. 

Aziraphale suddenly knew in that moment that he had an important choice to make. He wasn’t actually a fallen angel—his wings were still white after all—but he had been cast out of heaven. And in accepting the fact that he was no longer welcome in heaven made him realize, that the only place that he had every truly felt warmth, love, and joy had been….

…beside Crowley.

And at the same time he realized that Crowley had been there by his side, waiting for him for all these years…centuries… millennia, maybe. The demon’s voice was soft, but Aziraphale heard a twinge of desperate finality, and it occurred to the angel that Crowley had also lost everything. 

The demon was still not saved—his wings were still black as the night sky, but he was cast out of hell. 

Crowley was the only thing Aziraphale had left. And he was all that Crowley had left. 

“Like Agnes said, we’re going to have to choose our faces wisely,” the demon continued as the bus approached. 

Aziraphale wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly. Faces could mean sides, he thought. But he didn’t think that was exactly right.

They boarded the bus, and Aziraphale took a seat next to the demon, who lifted an eyebrow in his direction, but said nothing. The two had never sat next to one another on a bus before, trying their hardest (and, apparently, failing) to be clandestine. 

What fools they had been. 

The bus lurched forward with a puff of exhaust, and the interior lights were dimmed and they gently bounced their way down the small country road. 

They sat in silence. Aziraphale held his usual pose—upright, with his hands fixed primly in his lap. He stared straight ahead, but his brow was furrowed in concentration. The demon slunk down into his chair, resting his left arm against the window and taking up the armrest with his right. His legs were spread, and his right knee was practically touching the angel’s.

Aziraphale tried not to look at Crowley. He had to think, decide, what he was going to do. And if he looked at Crowley, he was afraid he might not be able to keep his composure. 

Dare he go back to Crowley’s place?

Oh how he wanted to. And he realized that his want was more than a desire for place to stay in for the night to rest from the apocalypse. 

He wanted Crowley. 

His mind again flashed to 1941, when he pressed his finger upon the demon’s lips before meeting them with a kiss. He had been half out of his mind with worry for Crowley that night—worry that he was going to lose him forever—and he felt barely in control of his actions. Aziraphale had instigated their corporeal passion.

In contrast, Crowley had never physically made a move on Aziraphale, even the night the antichrist was brought to earth and, prompting the two to get drunk and talk about dolphins and…gorilla nests? Truth be told, the angel had been rather hoping the demon would ravage him in the bookshop (it was part of the reason he invited him over 11 years ago) but Crowley maintained his physical distance, instead suggesting a plan for thwarting the apocalypse. 

They had not had any passionate contact since that night in the church. Crowley had been kind enough to take things slow for Aziraphale. And now Aziraphale had to decide if he wanted to move on to the next step…whatever that was.

Aziraphale puzzled over if he should go back to Crowley’s. He wanted to, and he had nowhere else that he wanted to go. But what would it mean if he did accompany Crowley? 

Was he ready to give himself over to Crowley again? Without hesitation?

His stomach fluttered with pangs of desire. But something still held him back, and he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. 

His heart was racing, and he swallowed, which seemed to prompt the demon next to him to shift in his seat. Azirapahle stole a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, and saw that Crowley was now leaning against the window, facing the angel with his black lenses. The armrest had been moved back to its upright position, and Crowley’s hand lingered upon the seat in between the two of them.

Aziraphale blinked, and refocused his attention to the front of the bus, but Crowley had noticed Aziraphale's attention drawn to him. 

“Well, Angel?”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale responded, pretending not to understand the question. 

“Would you…like…to come to my place?”

Aziraphale’s mouth felt dry, and there was a lump in his throat. He swallowed again, but it didn’t clear the sudden blockage that made it hard to speak. His abdomen tensed with fluttering pangs. He bit his lower lip, and cast his glance downward, looking at Crowley’s hand. The demon’s fingers were long and graceful, and Aziraphale wanted to feel them intertwined with his own.

But Aziraphale resisted the urge to clasp the hand next to his. Instead, he let his hand drop next to the demon’s, allowing his pinky to brush delicately against Crowley’s. It seemed to the angel that it was an innocent enough gesture. At their touch, however, Aziraphale heard Crowley quietly gasp, but the demon did not flench or draw his hand away.

“I…would like that,” Aziraphale said after a beat, keeping his attention focused on his hand and letting the electricity pass between their fingers. “Thank you.”

He looked up to meet Crowley’s face. The demon’s mouth was closed, but Aziraphale saw the faintest smile. It made the angel’s heart melt, and he broke out into a toothy grin. He had the urge to lean in and hug the demon, pull their bodies close to one another, but he refrained. Instead, the two grinned at one another in dark silence.

Eventually Crowley began to move his pinky in small rhythmic motions, letting the side of his finger caress Aziraphale’s. The touch was wonderful, and Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered shut as he allowed the demon’s finger to ever-so-gently dance its way up the side of his palm and to his wrist. The feeling was intoxicating, and Aziraphale’s heart beat with a growing desire. Eventually, all five of Crowley’s fingers were delicately traipsing over the back of the angel’s hand in small movements that seemed to draw all tension from Aziraphale’s corporeal body. It was like Crowley's touch was sucking venom from a snakebite, removing poison from the angel’s body, and leaving him feeling healed and whole. Aziraphale felt his shoulders ease, while the pangs in his stomach turned into warm longing, and desire began to swell in his groin. He felt his pants tighten with a slowly building erection.

He blinked his eyes open, and Crowley was still staring at him from behind his black lenses, as he let his fingers gently slither over Aziraphale’s wrist and arm. The demon’s chest heaving while his tongue slithered between his lips. It was a delicious sight. 

The moment was interrupted, however, by the sudden jostling stop of the bus slamming on its breaks, as a car cut them off, and Aziraphale slightly yelped in surpirse. The angel and demon looked up, and realized that they were now on the M25. It was no longer on fire. Not only that—it looked as though it never had been on fire. Everything seemed…normal. Very, very normal.

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at one another with their eyebrows raised in confusion and curiosity, but said nothing. 

The bus slowly drove forward again, and soon the two relaxed back in their seats. Crowley gently rested his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and went back to caressing his fingertips gently upon the angel’s hand. Aziraphale's heart swelled, and he nestled into the seat, allowing himself to feel utterly sated with the feeling of Crowley's body next to his. He turned his head slightly, and let his cheek rest against the top of Crowley's head. At this, the demon let out a small, guttural moan, and his body nuzzled closer to Aziraphale with a serpentine movement.

Soon they would be in London, and in Crowley’s flat.

Aziraphale couldn’t wait.


	2. Crowley's invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bus stop and bus ride, from Crowley's perspective. 
> 
> No real smut, but we are building up to Chapter 3. I hope you enjoy! Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Also, this is the song I was listening to when I wrote it, so if you want some mood music (for this whole fic, really):
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2sjzGH6txY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in watching the show, I really feel like there's an aspect of Crowley's character that has been patiently waiting for Aziraphale for a long time. After the apocalypse I imagine that he's somewhat at the end of his rope, and feels as though Aziraphale has been somewhat leading him on (not letting him go, but also not being fully committed to Crowley). Of course, as we saw in the last chapter, Aziraphale is completely oblivious to this...but Crowley's heart really can't take any more rejection. 
> 
> Not after he thought he'd lost his angel forever.

“You could come back to my place. If you like.”

Crowley studied Aziraphale after making his invitation, watching as the angel’s face softly change expressions. There was almost the faintest hint of a smile, and Crowley thought for a brief moment the invitation would be accepted, yet his heart felt heavy in his chest.

The demon had been rejected many times by the angel over the centuries. Crowley was accustomed to it. Normally he was able to brush his broken heart aside and simply be there for Aziraphale, in whatever capacity the angel could handle. That night of passion in 1941 had been a wonderful surprise, and in the moment the demon thought that the pair could finally be together. But after their fires of lust had died down the angel ran away--it clearly had been too much. This thing they had, this bond, this whatever-you-wish-to-call-it, never progressed further beyond that night. Even after that night, the angel had made it clear on several occasions that he was not ready to move any faster, and Crowley (not wanting to drive Aziraphale away) respected the physical and emotional distance.

Had Aziraphale, really at any point in human history, expressed a desire to be with Crowley in a more meaningful way (not just sexually but romantically, or something even beyond that), the demon would have accepted him without a moment’s hesitation. Crowley had taken it upon himself to just be there, waiting for his angel, suppressing his own needs and wants. Crowley was contented in his waiting—after all, what else could he do but wait?

That was, he had been perfectly content to wait for Aziraphale, until this night. This night, it wasn’t just that Crowley *wanted* to be with the angel, to take care of him as he always had, and be there for him. 

Tonight, Crowley *needed* Aziraphale. When he thought he'd lost the angel earlier that day, his heart completely shattered, and he felt as though he had fallen again. Now that Aziraphale was alive, and well, and sitting right beside him, Crowley realized that is was he who needed to feel comforted, supported....loved. Usually he had been the caretaker, but this time, he needed Aziraphale to take care of him. 

He thought about earlier that day, when he had wanted so desperately to run away with Aziraphale to the twin stars of Alpha Centauri, so that the two of them could circle one another in cosmic harmony forever. It was the first time he’d made a suggestion to run off together (though he had imagined it about a million times). And he had thought that perhaps the end of the world would finally get Aziraphale to choose him. 

But of course, the angel didn’t choose him, instead choosing to try and save humanity. When Crowley thought that the angel perished by hellfire, he had blamed himself—blamed himself for not coming sooner, blamed himself for not asking Aziraphale to run away with him in a way he would have been accepted, blamed himself for putting his companion in Hell’s crosshairs. 

And then, when Aziraphale was alive, there was no power in heaven, hell, or earth that would stop him from helping the angel save the world. 

And so they did.

And now Crowley’s heart was completely worn out by the day’s events. His nerves were utterly spent, and he didn’t want to tiptoe around Aziraphale anymore. He didn’t want to hide what they were to one another as they had for so many thousands of years. The line between angel and demon that kept them from being together was broken, and Crowley was done. 

If Aziraphale wanted to be with him, he couldn’t keep holding Crowley’s heart by a thread. Now, the demon felt, was the time for Aziraphale to decide what they were to one another. 

“I don’t think my side would like that,” the angel responded reluctantly turning his face away from Crowley, his words a rehearsed echo from centuries of pushing the demon away. 

‘Bullocks,’ thought Crowley at first hearing a line he knew only too well, but his heart melted as he saw that Aziraphale’s face expressing inner turmoil. He suddenly knew how Aziraphale felt. The angel was realizing that he was cast out of heaven forever, feeling a slight denial, and the longing for some comfort. It was deeply painful, and Crowley wanted, desperately, to comfort the angel. 

He wanted them to find comfort in each other. 

“You don’t have a side anymore,” Crowley said, trying desperately not to cry for the angel. “Neither of us do. We’re on our own side.” 

The bus approached the stop, and Crowley continued.

“Like Agnes said, we’re going to have to choose our faces wisely.”

Crowley had no idea what that meant exactly, but between Aziraphale’s cleverness and his own imagination, he was sure they could come up with something.

They boarded the bus, and Crowley snapped his fingers at the bus driver, making it so he drove to London instead of Oxford. 

He sat down at a window seat, and to his pleasant surprise, Aziraphale took a seat next to him. He slunk down into the chair, legs spread widely, and he took the armrest. The angel wasn’t using it, after all, his hands folded in his lap as he stared straight forward. 

‘Fuck angel,’ thought Crowley, ‘we face heaven, hell, and Satan himself, and you still have to be so bloody proper.’

He studied Aziraphale in silence, his golden eyes hidden by black lenses. There was a dull ache in his heart and abdomen, and he desperately wished that he were in the angel’s arms, feeling the celestial glow surround him. He imagined wrapping his arms around Aziraphale, like a snake tightly coiled, soaking in the warmth that the angel exuded. He wanted to bury his face in the angel’s sunlight curls. He wanted to see an ecstatic smile spread from the angel’s lips, and he wanted to taste Aziraphale’s euphoria. 

But the angel remained silent, focused, and so Crowley said nothing. Aziraphale hadn’t exactly given an answer about whether or not he would go back to Crowley’s home, and the demon was waiting for an answer. 

So the demon began to prepare himself for a rejection. He felt deep down that if it was a rejection, it would be the last rejection he could handle from Aziraphale. He had waited for the angel for so long, and perhaps—perhaps his feelings were not actually requited. 

If Aziraphale did not want Crowley after all, Crowley would have to let the angel go.

The armrest suddenly felt cold and hard, so he shifted his weight slightly, and lifted up the armrest to place his hand down on the cushioned seat. Aziraphale looked briefly at Crowley, and then turned his attention back to the front. 

Crowley couldn’t wait any longer.

“Well, Angel?”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale responded coyly. 

‘Fucking celestial tease,’ thought Crowley to himself

“Would you…like…to come to my place?” he asked dryly. 

The air was thick with anticipation. Crowley’s heart began to thump in his chest as he waited for Aziraphale’s response. The angel looked down at Crowley’s hand and then, ever so gently, placed his hand next to the demon’s, so that their fingers touched.

The touch, though slight, caused a fluttering pang inside of Crowley, and he let forth a small gasp. It was wonderful, feeling the soft skin delicately press against his own. Celestial and demonic electricity seemed to pass between their fingers.

“I…would like that. Thank you,” Aziraphale finally said.

Crowley’s heart leapt, and he felt like he could cry tears of joy. Aziraphale looked at him, smiling a toothy smile that made the angel’s face look somehow both a little ridiculous and like love incarnate. Crowley couldn’t look away—it was like the world had completely melted away, and the only thing that was there was the two of them.

Eventually Crowley came to, and he realized that his little finger had begun to stroke the angel’s. The movement seemed well received by Aziraphale, whose eyes eventually fluttered shut, as his mouth relaxed into a slightly ajar position. It took everything in Crowley’s power to hold himself back from grabbing the angel roughly, pulling him down by the lapels until they rolled together on the bus’ stale floor. He wanted to fall into the angel, feeling his weight and soft curves pressing against his body. He wanted to rip off their clothes until there was nothing between them. He wanted to be with Aziraphale, in him, surrounded by him. 

His cock began to stir, and pressed against his tight pants, as he continued to caress and tease Aziraphale with his fingers. It was amazing what a small, gentle touch on the back of a hand could do, and he watched in wanton anticipation as Aziraphale’s breath became deep and heavy. He looked down and noticed that the angel was enjoying it, the outline of an erection pressing against his pleated pants. 

The thought began to drive Crowley’s mind into a flurry. He wasn’t sure he could wait until the apartment to ravage Aziraphale. When the angel opened his eyes and met his gaze, he licked his lips, thinking seriously about pressing them to Aziraphale’s.

But before Crowley could make a move, the bus slammed on its breaks. 

‘Bloody, timing,’ thought Crowley as he looked up and saw that they were…hang on…they were on the M25. 

The last time Crowley saw the M25 was when it was on fire. Everything seemed…fine now. Normal. Not a scorch mark in sight. 

‘I wonder what else is back to normal,’ he pondered to himself, thinking briefly about Aziraphale’s bookshop. But he said nothing.

The bus slowly drove forward again, and the two relaxed back in their seats. The interruption had lessened the passionate desperation Crowley had been feeling, but he still longed to be close to Aziraphale. 

Without really thinking about it, he dropped his head down onto the angel’s shoulder. It felt natural as he did it, but once his head was there, he panicked slightly. It was a level of intimacy that he wasn’t sure Aziraphale wanted. He thought about sitting back up, when he felt the angel rest his face on top of the demon's head. Crowley suddenly felt overwhelmingly surrounded by love, and he let out a soft whimper. 

He went back to caressing Aziraphale’s hand and wrist, no longer in simple, wanton lust, but in deep thanks. He was so grateful that Aziraphale had accepted him—not just his invitation, but him. 

He had never felt so happy.

Soon they would be in London, and in his flat.

Crowley couldn’t wait.


	3. Back at the apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley finally come together (pun intended), and eventually figure out Agnes Nutter's prophesy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post! I hope it was worth the wait.

The bus stopped across from Crowley’s apartment, which Aziraphale noted was suspiciously close to the Ritz. The building was hard and austere, and the angel couldn’t help but feel like the minimalist atmosphere resembled a shadowy heaven. Together they walked to the elevator, hand in hand, and said nothing for the duration of the ride up to the top floor. Aziraphale’s heart was beating quickly, and Crowley felt like he might turn back into a snake at any moment.

The demon led the angel down a long hallway and with a snap of his fingers he opened his front door. Crowley suddenly felt a little nervous about letting the angel see the inside of his flat. It was, after all, very different from the bookshop. Aziraphale might not approve of the aesthetic, or find it uncomfortable. But he still very much wanted the angel to stay with him.

“Alcohol,” the demon said decisively, realizing that the wine they shared at the bus stop was long gone. He dropped Aziraphale’s hand and entered the apartment, leaving the angel to venture inside on his own.

Aziraphale walked into Crowley’s apartment. It was the first time he’d ever been inside. He was tired, tired from having fought heaven and hell, but also tired of running. He’d been hiding from Crowley, from his own feelings, for so long, but now there was no need. Crowley went to go fetch some more alcohol from somewhere, and that’s when Aziraphale saw it—the eagle.

It was the same eagle from the church the night they first has sex. It now graced the interior of Crowley’s apartment.

Crowley approached Aziraphale, handing him a glass filled with a honey-colored liquid.

“Crowley, is this…” he began, motioning towards the eagle. “Is this from the church?”

Crowley bit his bottom lip for a moment.

“Oh, uh, well, yeah…” his voice trailed off.

Aziraphale met his lips with a long, tender kiss.

“My dear,” he said. “I love you.”

Crowley’s heart swelled at hearing this. He’d wanted to hear this for so long. He smiled.

“Angel. I love you too.” His words were breathy and soft.

“Oh really?” Aziraphale responded, his eyes lighting up with joy. He felt, deep down, like he always knew that Crowley loved him, but hearing it spoken aloud was another matter entirely.

Crowley sighed and tilted his head, frowning a little. Verbally expressing affection was not his forte. 

“Angel, you know I do.”

Aziraphale’s eyes softened. “My dear Crowley,” he said, his heart feeling fuller than it had in a long time. Crowley’s heart skipped a beat at hearing Aziraphale say his name, and the angel leaned in and kiss the demon softly on the cheek. Crowley blushed.

“Might we sit, down?” Aziraphale asked, looking around for a couch. 

“Ah, yes, come with me,” Crowley said, and he sauntered down the stark hallway, clutching his glass of alcohol with one hand while the other seemed to exaggerate the sway of his hips. The angel watched the demon’s swagger, almost snakelike, and the sight made his heart flutter and mind wander. He took a sip of his own drink-it was harsh and smokey. 

They passed a room with a large throne-like chair, and Azirphale thought he espied a hint of green foliage. He would have to ask about that later. 

Crowley finally stopped at a room that was practically empty, with the exception of a leather sofa and a couple of end tables. It was minimalist, dramatic, and hard like the rest of the apartment--so very Crowley. 

“Ahh,” said Aziraphale, trying to feign delight, but really wondering how such a firm surface could possibly be comfortable. 

Crowley suspected that the angel might want something softer, like the seating he had in his bookshop. “I could summon you an extra pillow…” he offered, but Aziraphale interrupted. 

“Oh, no, my dear, this is perfectly alright.” He smiled, and took a sip alcohol.

Crowley collapsed on the couch, removed his glasses and set both them and his glass of scotch on the side table. He let his head roll onto the hard backrest, shutting his eyes tightly. 

He felt as though he could fall asleep for a hundred years. 

Aziraphale quietly sat next to Crowley, placing his own glass of alcohol down as well. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked tentatively.

“Angel?” Crowley responded, not moving or opening his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

Crowley sighed, slitted open his eyes, and turned his head to Aziraphale. The angel was gorgeous, his gentle curls and warm, soft clothing contrasting with the cool hues and sharp edges of the demon’s apartment. Crowley’s heart swelled, and he reached his hand out to Aziraphale’s, interlacing their fingers together. 

Aziraphale smiled at the touch, but waited for Crowley to answer. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do—this all felt like new territory for him—and he decided that talking would at least be a good start. 

“I thought I lost you today,” Crowley croaked, and he felt tears well in his eyes as his lower lip began to quiver. 

“You didn’t though. I’m here, Crowley,” Aziraphale responded soothingly, and he gently squeezed the demon’s hand for reassurance. 

“I didn’t know what I was going to do without you,” Crowley continued, and he swallowed hard, feeling a prickly lump in his throat. A few tears rolled down his cheek, and he wiped them away with his free hand. The sight of tears caused sharp pangs in Aziraphale’s chest.

“Oh, Crowley, my dear I—-I didn’t realize…” Aziraphale said, feeling a little flustered. Crowley, it had seemed to Aziraphale, was usually the one who was strong, emotionally speaking. Where the angel was often anxious or panicked, wearing his emotion on his sleeve, Crowley only really lost his cool when he was angry. Usually Crowley was the one to calm down Aziraphale—often by teasing him, but also through acts of service that brought comfort to the angel.

Whatever this emotion was, the breaking voice, the tears…this was a side of Crowley Aziraphale had not seen before.

“Didn’t realize?” Crowley said with a small laugh. 

“Well…” Aziraphale started, but he couldn’t find the words. 

“You didn’t realize that to me you are absolutely the most important being in the whole universe? That I’m completely and utterly lost without you? That I’ve wanted nothing more than for you to be safe and by my side for the entirety of creation?” Crowley felt the floodgates open, as his confessions of ancient love and longing poured forth.

Aziraphale stared at him with compassion, feeling the emotion exuding from the demon, and his heart beat with intensity.

Crowley continued. “You didn’t know that I never thought I could love anything after my fall, let alone be loved by anything, and then I saw you in all your celestial glory, and oh, you were so beautiful and so worried and so..so…so stupid, Angel…and I couldn’t help but feel as though I fell again.”

Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open, and felt a small twinge at being called stupid, but he would forgive Crowley, of course.

The demon wasn’t done. “You didn’t know that I thought that my punishment—my real punishment—was watching you and loving you, for millennia, and believing that it would never, ever be requited.”

Aziraphale heard this, and whatever had been holding him back suddenly snapped free. The confessions coming from Crowley made him realize that Aziraphale too had felt longing…he loved Crowley, most desperately. He’d loved him for centuries (although he perhaps didn't realize it until 1941). He’d longed to be by his side, but with heaven and hell in the way it seemed too dangerous. But now…now the danger was being apart. 

He stared wide-eyed into Crowley’s eyes, and felt like he might also begin to cry. 

“Oh…my dear…” was all he could muster to say, and he shifted his position so that he could bury his head into Crowley’s chest, wrapping his arms around the demon’s torso. The embrace made Crowley gasp, but he received Aziraphale, and he coiled his arms around the angel, letting his face fall into the heap of celestial curls. 

They held one another, breathing heavily, and letting tears softly fall. For minutes they dared not move. They didn’t want to let each other go. 

“I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale eventually muttered into the demon’s chest, his voice muffled and thick. 

Crowley couldn’t say anything back, but kissed the head beneath him, allowing himself to feel completely enveloped by the angel’s presence. He was raw, open, and finding solace in the arms that held him tight. It was a new feeling for him, and he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. 

After a while, their breathing synchronized, their chests pressing tightly against one another with every deep inhalation. The feeling was intoxicating, for both of them. Slowly Crowley began to stoke the demon’s back, letting his palm and fingers caress the angel’s coat noting the movement of muscle underneath. Unbeknownst to Crowley, his own body began to swerve ever-so-slightly in snakelike movements, which Aziraphale noted with growing intrigue. 

Aziraphale lifted his head to look deeply into the demon’s aureoline eyes. Crowley raised his eyebrow and turned the corner of his mouth up into a small, coy smile, admiring the pale blue stare that suddenly met his gaze. Aziraphale leaned in to kiss Crowley, pressing their soft lips together before gently letting his tongue slip out. Crowley let out a guttural moan at the sensation and promptly opened his mouth, allowing the angel to slide inside. Their tongues mingled together, massaging and tasting one another.

Their arms were still wrapped around one another, and Crowley began to grab the fabric at Aziraphale’s back with tight fists, and he imagined ripping the garment off. One of Aziraphale’s hands found its way to Crowley’s face, and he cupped the demon’s cheek, while his other hand rested firmly on the demon’s shoulder.

After several wet minutes, their breath became frantic, as Crowley’s body continued to swerve against Aziraphale. Their torrent of kisses was interrupted by lusty gasps for air and soft groans. Crowley’s mind whirled with ardor as he held himself back from throwing Aziraphale on the ground and tearing off his clothes. Aziraphale’s whole body ached with desire and he was compelled by the need to show Crowley just how much he was loved.

Aziraphale pulled, eliciting a pouty whimper from the demon. He looked into Crowley’s eyes with lustful sincerity. 

“I want you, Crowley.”

“I….I want you too, angel,” Crowley responded, a little confused. The demon could definitely tell that Aziraphale wanted him, so this confession seemed a little superfluous. 

“But I want you…completely. Don’t…don’t hold back,” Aziraphale added.

“Hold back, Angel?” Crowley asked. His cock, which had been growing harder for some time, suddenly felt a throbbing ache, and he imagined thrusting it deep inside of Aziraphale.

“I mean it,” the angel responded. “I am yours, now, and forever, and…I want to give you whatever you need, and show you how much I love you. I’m just…not exactly sure what would show that to you.”

Crowley smiled, and planted a soft kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek. 

“Oh Angel,” he whispered softly in Aziraphale’s ear, which sent shivers down the angel’s spine. “You’re already giving me exactly what I need.”

‘There’s no way he’s ready for me to go full throttle,’ Crowley thought to himself, remembering all of the different fantasies he’d had over the years.

“I’m glad to hear it,” the angel breathily replied, “but please, Crowley. Don’t hold back.”

Crowley swallowed. “Are you sure, Angel?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“Just…tell me if I’m going too far and I’ll stop, alright?”

“Certainly, my dear.”

Crowley let out a slow breath as his mind roared with possibilities. There were things he had imagined over the millennia that would make the angel blush. Whatever they were going to do tonight, it needed to be gentler than his most feral fantasies. 

Those could wait.

“Take this off,” the demon commanded, fisting the coat’s lapels. Aziraphale obeyed with fluttering excitement. Crowley’s heart raced. 

“Come here,” he said as he grabbed Aziraphale and situated him so that he straddled his lap with his thighs. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s erection pressing against him and the sensation made his own cock press tightly against his trousers. He bit his lip, as he awaited what was to happen next. 

Crowley looked down at Aziraphale’s thighs, and pawed at them roughly, imagining the fleshy skin giving away beneath his fingers as his palms dragged over the fabric. His gaze lingered over the bulge pressing into his stomach, and he let one hand work its way up the thigh, and pass over the swelling.

Aziraphale whimpered when Crowley’s hand lightly brushed against his erection. But the demon, really enjoying the tease, didn't linger there for long, and he worked his hand up to Aziraphale’s chest, while his other hand continued to palm and squeeze the angel’s thigh. The angel, who had been somewhat nervous at the start, relaxed into the demon’s touch, letting his mind go free. Crowley’s gaze worked its way up to Aziraphale’s face, which was now turned upward. His eyes were shut and his mouth was open. 

‘How is he this sensual?’ Crowley wondered, in awe at the sight. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Angel,” he whispered, as his hips began to swerve. Aziraphale grinned widely and looked down. 

“You don’t think I’m too soft?” he asked with a little pout.

“What?” Crowley hissed, alarmed at the question. 

“Well, Gabriel said…”

“WHAT DID GABRIEL SAY?”

“Well,” Aziraphale blinked sheepishly. “He said I needed to…get in shape. Lose the gut.”

“Fuck Gabriel,” hissed Crowley, whose lust was now fused with pangs of anger. He wasn’t able to contain himself, and he promptly ripped off Azirapahle’s waistcoat and shirt, buttons flying off and landing with little pings that echoed around the room. Azirapahle’s torso was now completely exposed, and Crowley stared lustfully at the ivory skin before him. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale whined. “Crowley, my shirt—“

“It’s fine, Angel,” Crowley said. “I’ll fix it later,” he looked up to make sure that he hadn’t gone too far. 

“Well, you’d better,” Aziraphale said haughtily with a little purse of his lips. As long as Crowley promised to return his clothes to normal, Aziraphale was alright. 

“You are not too soft, Angel, you are absolutely perfect," Crowley panted desperately. "And I need these to come off of you right now.” Crowley was clumsily trying to slide the shirt off of Aziraphale’s shoulders. 

Aziraphale took it upon himself to undo the buttons at the wrists so that he could remove the shirt completely without ripping his garment any further. Once Aziraphale was naked from the waist up, Crowley wrapped his arms around him and clawed at his soft, warm flesh, eliciting an excited whimper from the angel, who absentmindedly began to grind his hips against the demon, pressing himself against Crowley’s erection. 

“You’re bloody perfect,” the demon said, and he leaned forward so that he could gently kiss Aziraphale's shoulder and Aziraphale moaned at the feeling. The demon lightly grazed his teeth across the skin, and the angel let out a small whimper. Crowley then decided to drag his tongue across Aziraphale’s skin and to his neck, where he nipped and sucked and licked. 

"Oh, my dear, that feels wonderful," Aziraphale murmured, basking in the feeling of his lover's tongue and teeth teasing his skin, and his hips continued to grind. His hands had found their way to the Crowley’s shoulders, which he suddenly realized were very covered. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale whined. 

“Hmmm?” the demon responded, not removing his lips from sucking a red spot into Aziraphale’s neck.

“Crowley, won’t you take this off?” he asked petulantly, tugging at the demon’s clothes. 

Crowley removed himself from Aziraphale’s neck, looked down at his clothes, and the angel’s trousers, and he snapped his finger. 

They were both, suddenly, very naked. Crowley’s cock nestled at Azirapahle’s backside, but he hadn’t entered, while the angel’s erection slapped against the demon’s abdomen. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed, shocked but not exactly mad. 

“Too much?” Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, no, it’s just, surprising.” 

Crowley smirked. 

“Well, if you think that’s surprising….” the demon suddenly shoved the angel backwards with a great force. Aziraphale shut his eyes as he expected the hard impact of the concrete floor, but unbeknownst to him Crowley’s snap that removed their clothes also had cleverly summoned a bed with a feathery mattress and silky black sheets, right next to the couch. 

Aziraphale suddenly found himself landing on a feathery surface and unexpectedly surrounded by sweet softness and shiny black satin.

“Oh…” the angel gasped, and Crowley leapt forward, like a snake striking its prey. He landed on top of the angel, and sidled one of his legs in between Aziraphale’s thighs. Aziraphale was still in a bit of shock at having landed on a bed that wasn’t there earlier, but he spread his knees apart, letting Crowley’s hips slide in between his legs. 

The look of pleasant surprise on Azirapahle’s face made Crowley break out into a rare smile. 

“Oh, yes, Angel,” he hissed, and he licked at one of Aziraphale’s nipples. 

“Aaahh, oh Crowley,” he was incredibly sensitive, and feeling the demon’s tongue swirl made his cock twitch. 

Crowley felt the movement, and looked down, suddenly very interested in the Aziraphale’s erection. With his teeth clenched he let out a little hiss, before sliding his way down. Aziraphale watched, unsure if he should do anything, and gulped. 

Crowley examined the shaft more closely, drawing a finger gently up the underside. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale yelped in pleasure. 

“You like that, Angel?” 

“Y—yes,” Aziraphale stammered. 

Crowley then dragged his tongue over the same spot.

“OH!” Aziraphale exclaimed. Crowley's heart lustily skipped a beat, and he opened his mouth widely, slipping the cock inside. 

“Oh, oh my dear,” Aziraphale panted, grabbing desperately at Crowley’s hair, as his hips began to gyrate. The feeling of Crowley’s hot, wet mouth making slight suction as he bobbed his head up and down, and his long tongue massaging the shaft, was drawing Aziraphale into a euphoric frenzy. Warmth built up in his lower abdomen, and he began to moan loudly.

When Crowley tasted precum, he slid the cock out of his mouth with a little wet pop, not wanting Aziraphale to orgasm too quickly. 

Aziraphale looked down, panting, and he unclenched his hands from Crowley’s hair. 'That was...incredible,' he thought to himself, his mind still in a haze with passion. But after a moment, Aziraphale was suddenly curious about what it tasted like.

“My dear…” he murmured.

Crowley looked up into Aziraphale’s face. “Yes?” The demon had been kissing around Aziraphale's thighs. 

“Can I…try that?”

‘Oh my Somebody, Aziraphale just me if he could suck my cock,’ he thought in disbelief. 

Crowley bit his lip, and slid off the bed and stood up. He didn’t want to see overly eager, but he was.

“Come on then,” he said, and Aziraphale wiggled his way down to the edge of the mattress, and ended up eye level with Crowley’s erection. He inspected it carefully, noting its length, foreskin and veins. When they had first had sex all those years ago, he didn’t actually get a chance to look at Crowley up close, and he really enjoyed the sight. He daintily dragged a finger along the side. 

“Mmm, yeah, that’s good,” said Crowley as he watched, his dick aching for touch.

Aziraphale gently licked his lips before gingerly sticking out his tongue and tasting the foreskin, which was silkier than he thought it would be. Crowley groaned, and placed his hands on either side of Aziraphale’s head, combing his fingers through the curls. Aziraphale wet his lips again, and this time gave a longer lick, beginning at the base and working his way to the tip. 

“Oh f-f-fuuuck, Angel,” Crowley growled. 

Aziraphale looked up into Crowley’s face, seeing the lusty expression, and looked back at the shaft more confidently. He opened his mouth and carefully slid it over Crowley’s erection, allowing it to fill his mouth completely. 

“Oh, just like that Angel, just like that,” and Crowley had to work hard not to grab the angel forcefully and fuck his face with wanton abandon. As much as he wanted to pump the cherubic mouth that gently sucked his dick, he preferred to take it slow, even if it taking is slow was a form of torture. 

Aziraphale grew bolder after a couple of long, slow drags, and he began to slide Crowley in and out of his mouth with more confidence, letting his tongue flitter across the skin. He grabbed the demon by the hips, and his fingers dug into the fleshy part of Crowley’s ass. 

The combination of fingers pawing at his flesh and the warm, wet mouth sucking his cock was becoming overwhelming. Crowley was really not prepared to feel this level of pleasure and he began to lose control. His fingers gripped Aziraphale tightly, and he began to thrust into Aziraphale’s mouth. 

“Oh yeah Angel, suck it. That’s right. Suck my dick, Fuuu,” he began to buck his hips harder and harder practically shoving his cock into the back of Aziraphale’s throat. Everything was warm, and wet, and slippery, and it felt oh-so good.

The angel, however, began to feel overwhelmed. What if Crowley came inside of his mouth? Was he supposed to swallow? What would it taste like—what if he didn’t like it? No, no, this wouldn’t do. He suddenly ripped Crowley’s hands away from his head and removed the cock from his mouth as he sat back further on the mattress.

“A bit—fast for me—-my dear,” he stammered, panting and coughing. 

“Oh—-oh Angel, I’m sorry,” Crowley apologized, feeling like a complete idiot. He sat down next to Aziraphale, and placed a hand tenderly on one of the angel’s knees. “I should have been more careful, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I got caught up in it and wasn’t thinking properly.”

Aziraphale smiled at Crowley, his eyes creasing at the corners. “It’s alright my love, no need to apologize. I want you to get caught up in it—it just might take me a bit to match to your pace. You stopped when I pulled away, and that’s what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

Aziraphale leaned in, and softly kissed Crowley. 

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Crowley nodded, but was still hesitant. With every fiber of his corporeal form, he wanted to flip Aziraphale over, shove his face into the mattress and push his cock roughly inside while he clutched at the angel’s fleshy thighs, pulling him in closer and closer as he burrowed deeper and deeper. He wanted to tie the Aziraphale up so he couldn’t move, and watch his adorable, stupid face light up with helpless ecstasy as Crowley’s fingers massaged his prostate, and pumped Aziraphale’s cock. He wanted Aziraphale on all fours, begging for pleasure, for release, for Crowley’s dick while the demon slapped him with a leather riding crop. 

And as much as these thoughts turned Crowley on--were the fodder for his lonely years of self pleasure--they also left him feeling a little ashamed (which, of course, only made him harder). But the reality of having Aziraphale in his bed was very different. It was almost sacred, somehow, and Crowley did not want to mess it up by allowing his demon to take over. 

Aziraphale studied Crowley’s face, and began to worry that the lustful frenzy was over, that stopping the blow job had ended the passion, so he thought about what to do. He wanted Crowley to come in ecstasy, and he considered that his best option would probably be to straddle the demon. 

So he kissed Crowley’s cheek, and then swung his leg over the demon’s lap. Crowley, somewhat surprised, looked up into Aziraphale’s face, and he almost absentmindedly placed his hands on the soft thighs that now straddled him, gently caressing them with the tips of his fingers. His cock was rock hard, and burrowed gently into Aziraphale’s backside. 

“What’re you…” he began to ask, but Aziraphale placed a finger to the demon’s lips and shushed. Crowley sat motionless at first, but looked deep into the angel’s wide eyes, which had notes of desperation. This gave Crowley the confidence to continue. His tongue flittered out and he slowly licked Aziraphale’s finger. Aziraphale gasped, and Crowley shut his eyes and began sucking on the finger, his head moving in a slight serpentine fashion. He really worked at it, sucking and lightly biting, letting his tongue envelope and massage it. 

Aziraphale’s cock began to really ache as he watched Crowley suck on his finger the way he had sucked on his shaft, and he let out a soft moan. 

Crowley opened his eyes, and looked up at the angel. He let the finger slide out as he squeezed Aziraphale’s ass tightly. 

“Did you like that?” the demon asked.

“I—did. Rather,” Aziraphale stammered back. 

Crowley then took two of his own fingers and slipped them into his mouth, while Aziraphale watched. Once the fingers were slick, he moved his hand down and he slipped underneath Aziraphale, feeling for the crevice. Aziraphale lifted himself up slightly onto his haunches, letting Crowley access him more easily. With his other hand, Crowley grabbed one side of the Aziraphale’s ass and pulled it, making the opening easier to find. 

They were looking into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily as Crowley found the entrance. But he didn’t put his fingers inside quite yet, instead teasing around the outside.

He wanted to hear the angel beg. He didn’t have to wait for long.

“Please, Crowley,” Aziraphale whined, and Crowley hissed as a finger slipped inside. 

“Mmmmm,” Aziraphale groaned, as his eyes rolled back and his hips began to twirl. Crowley massaged and massaged, working his way deeper and searching for the spot that would make Aziraphale gasp. 

He found it. 

“Oh, Crooooowley,” Aziraphale purred as pleasure pulsed out of the spot Crowley was touching. 

“Fuck, Angel, you’re so hot,” Crowley groaned, and he slipped another finger inside. 

“Oh, my dear, oh that feels delightful,” Aziraphale mewled, and he began to touch his own throbbing cock, sliding his hand up and down as precum wetted the tip. His other hand was bracing himself on Crowley’s shoulder. 

Crowley really wanted to slide his own shaft deep inside Aziraphale, but he could tell things weren’t quite ready, so he summoned a bit of lube onto a third finger and promptly slipped it inside. 

“Oh, that’s it, oh yes Crowley, oh,” Aziraphale yelped, his hips now twirling with greater vigor. Crowley’s body had begun to writhe underneath the angel in snakelike movements, his hips grinding upward. He really wanted Aziraphale to sit back down onto his dick, but he wanted to be asked first.

He soon got his wish. 

“Oh, Crowley, Crowley, please,” Aziraphale whined, “Please, I need you inside of me.”

The demon smiled, slid his fingers out, and using his hands, guided the angle’s hips downward, letting his cock find the slippery cleft. Gently Aziraphale lowered down, welcoming Crowley inside of him and letting the erection fill him to the brim. 

Both let out a whimper. 

“Oh Angel, you feel so good,” Crowley groaned. 

“So do you, my dear,” Aziraphale replied breathily as he propped up his hips, sliding up on the shaft, and then edging back down.

“F-f-uck,” Crowley uttered as Aziraphale slowly began to ride his cock, and he dug his nails into plump thighs that straddled him, feeling the heat building in his erection. Soon, overcome by pleasure, the demon collapsed backwards onto the bed. 

“Let’s move back a bit, shall we?” Aziraphale asked, and they carefully inched their way back so that Crowley’s legs no longer dangled over the edge of the bed. It was a little clumsy, but Aziraphale somehow managed to keep Crowley’s cock inside of him. 

“There now. Isn’t that nice?” Aziraphale asked, as his hips resumed their slow-paced ride. 

“Oh, yes Angel,” Crowley responded, looking up into Aziraphale’s face. Crowley grabbed his ass, spreading the cheeks, and thrust upward as Aziraphale slid down, and he pumped himself deep inside the angel. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale yelped in pleasure, and his hips began to pick up speed. 

Crowley continued to buck upwards into Aziraphale, matching the pace the angel set, and feeling burning passion build in his abdomen. He didn’t want it to end--he could watch his Angel ride him forever, his ass accepting the demon’s cock over and over again as Crowley thrust deeper and deeper. 

Aziraphale, meanwhile, was in absolute ecstasy, feeling his pleasure build in his backside as he continued to ride Crowley, making sure that the shaft hit just the right spot. Soon, his cock began to twitch. Crowley noticed this, and took it in one of his hands, which he made slick with a little demonic magic. Aziraphale cried out enthusiastically at the sensation of his cock being stroked. Crowley pumped, slowly at first, but he soon met the pace of Aziraphale’s bucking hips. 

Aziraphale fell forward, his hands on either side of Crowley's shoulders. His stomach pressed against Crowley's, and the skin-on-skin contact made both of them moan. Aziraphale continued to ride the demon, while Crowley kept pumping Aziraphale's erection. 

“Oh, Angel, Aziraphale, Yes!” Crowley screamed, as pleasure began to build to a boil inside of his cock. 

He was getting to the point of no return. 

And so was Aziraphale. The feeling of Crowley filling his ass, and now the slippery hand that pumped his erection with wild abandon as he rode the demon faster and faster was causing a white hot pleasure to reverberate all over his body. The intensity was all too much, and it felt like an electric wave rushed over him. The floodgates were open—there was no going back.

“Crowley, I’m going to—“ he began.

“DO IT!” snarled Crowley. 

“Oh FUCK!” yelled Aziraphale as his pleasure reached the tipping point and cum spurted forth from his cock in thick, ropey strands, landing all over the demon’s stomach, bed, and even some in his red hair. His ass muscles clenched around Crowley tightly. 

At hearing Aziraphale’s orgasmic profanity, Crowley’s head rolled back and his toes clenched. His own pleasure bubbled forth and his hips bucked over and over again, and he felt Aziraphale’s ass clench in ecstasy. The tightness seemed to draw out Crowley’s orgasm, and he continued to spurt deep inside of Aziraphale, feeling his hot cum fill the angel as he let out a loud hiss. 

When Aziraphale’s orgasm ended, he looked down Crowley, who was at the tail end of his own climax. His eyes were shut tight and his teeth clenched with an expression of absolute euphoria. The expression made Aziraphale’s heart soar. 

With one final thrust, Crowley exhaled, his orgasm finally finished. He looked up at Aziraphale, who was shaking his head in an effort to get his wits back. Crowley patted Aziraphale’s thighs as if to say “well done,” and the angel gently slid off of Crowley, which caused both of them to softly yelp. He rolled onto his back next to the demon. Both stared at the ceiling, panting heavily, while beads of sweat dripped off of their skin. Eventually, Aziraphale reached out for Crowley’s hand, and grasped it. 

“That was…” his voice trailed off.

“Ineffable?” Crowley asked teasingly.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, I’ll say.”

“Hmmph.”

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley. With his free hand, he dragged a finger along the jawline, up the ear, and around the little snake that rested on the side of his face. 

“Mmm,” Crowley purred in response, and he turned into Aziraphale, sliding one leg over the angel’s abdomen, and perching his head upon Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale wrapped his arms about Crowley. They both were still a bit stupefied, and the feeling of pressing bodies together lulled them into a relaxation. 

Crowley wanted to sleep for about 1,000 years. Aziraphale just wanted to hold Crowley. 

But soon, the worries of the outside world began to enter their heads. Crowley remembered that Heaven and Hell were probably on their way to pick them up right now. Aziraphale thought about Agnes Nutter’s last prophesy. 

“I suppose we can’t stay here forever,” the angel said regretfully. 

“Alpha Centuri still off the table?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale laughed, and kissed the top of Crowley’s head. “Maybe eventually my dear.”

“Hmmph,” grumbled Crowley. 

“Soon you shall be playing with fire,” Aziraphale repeated the prophesy. 

“Well, I don’t mind that,” said Crowley. 

And it suddenly struck Aziraphale. 

“But I do.” 

Crowley understood the connotation and looked up at Aziraphale. 

“Of course. Hellfire. Ugh, how are we so bloody stupid?” Crowley asked, his heart beginning to beat with worry. 

“Well, we’ve had a lot going on,” Aziraphale responded. 

“So if they try to burn you with hellfire,” Crowley began.

“Holy water,” Aziraphale replied promptly. 

“Yeah.” Crowley replied. “We are fucked.”

Aziraphale sighed. “If only we could switch places.”

“Angel, yes!” Crowley replied, his imagination running wild. “We swap faces.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, but shut it. His brows furrowed. “Swap…faces?”

“Faces..legs..arms..everything.”

Aziraphale lifted an eyebrow. 

Crowley continued. “Look, if we just swap corporeal bodies, maybe let our essences rearrange our forms. I possess you, you possess me.”

“I…suppose it could work.”

“It can.” Crowley replied desperately. “It has to.”

“It’s never been done before. We might explode.”

“Look, we just, occupy the other’s body. You already occupied a different body earlier today, it can’t be that hard.”

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley. 

“Well. I suppose it’s worth a shot. Let’s try it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! My next plan for this series is either to do a long-distance hone sex thing, or an episode where they switch (if you know what I mean). If you have a preference, I'm happy to hear it!


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